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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30126507">Ouch... Do That Again</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Im_A_Terrible_Person/pseuds/Im_A_Terrible_Person'>Im_A_Terrible_Person</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Requests :) [22]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftercare, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bathing/Washing, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Bottom Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Breathplay, Breeding, Breeding Kink, Collars, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Dacryphilia, Dom/sub, Domdrop, Double Penetration, Double Penetration in Two Holes, Electricity, Electrocution, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Handcuffs, Insecurity, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, Light Petting, Light Sadism, M/M, Masochism, Not really though, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Pain, Painplay, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Post-Coital Cuddling, Praise Kink, Rough Oral Sex, Sex Toys, Shock, Sloppy Seconds, Smut, Soft Dom Alexis | Quackity, Spitroasting, Sub Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Subdrop, Subspace, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Top Alexis | Quackity, Top Wilbur Soot, dom wilbur soot, for like a paragraph, i think, i think i like making my characters cry too much, ig, probably, shock collar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:34:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,764</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30126507</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Im_A_Terrible_Person/pseuds/Im_A_Terrible_Person</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Schlatt hates being so torn... wishes he was torn in another way.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alexis | Quackity/Jschlatt, Alexis | Quackity/Jschlatt/Wilbur Soot, Alexis | Quackity/Wilbur Soot, Jschlatt/Wilbur Soot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Requests :) [22]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2193852</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>305</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Ouch... Do That Again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For @highlighter &lt;3</p><p>I'm back :D</p><p>I ate cookies while writing this. Awesomeness.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was no reason for Schlatt to keep pretending, trying to be someone else around them. But he still tried, still grinned cruelly, all sharp horns and menacing eyes, even though he could tell that they didn’t buy it. He just couldn’t help it, couldn’t let his guard down no matter how hard he tried. It didn’t matter that Schlatt couldn’t let go by himself; they always did it for him, eased him out of his shell, let him relax into them. Let his head go soft and small, needing them.</p><p>Schlatt loved the way Wilbur did that, even if it was embarrassing. Even if the way he just melted under his gaze, didn’t have to even touch Schlatt to get him to slip, make his mind all warm and fuzzy, desperate to hide it. Wilbur loved it, had that stupid smile on his face as he sank his fingers into Schlatt’s hair, yanked his head back, forced him to his knees. His eyes watering, staring up at him, suddenly so needy, pushed into his hand with a whine.</p><p>He loved the way Wilbur’s eyes darkened, the hungry look on his face as he rediscovered how obedient Schlatt was for him, how willing he was to just let Wilbur control him. Follow him around, edge himself, overstimulate himself, let Wilbur tie him up, doll him up in pretty things that made him want to die, so humiliating. Schlatt kept his eyes closed, tried not to think about how stupid he must have looked. A 6’3 adult man in skirts and thigh highs, soft silks and jewels, tied up and whimpering. Fuck, what had he been thinking?</p><p>Quackity was almost as bad, if not worse. See, Wilbur liked complete control, to just take over his thoughts, his mind, so he didn’t even have to think. Schlatt could lose himself in it, only thinking to be embarrassed about it later. With Quackity, he couldn’t do that, had to stay in the moment, had to look up at his concerned face, answer his questions, painfully aware of what he must look like, how he was acting, how ridiculous it was to let this short fluffy duck dominate him.</p><p>He loved it, couldn’t deny that, but at the same time he couldn’t admit to it, always had to act like it was a hardship, act like it wasn’t true. Schlatt always had to make them force him into it, that way he could keep denying it. By now it was a little game they played, watched in amusement as he played the part of the intimidating businessman, the president, evil and frenzied. Red eyes crazed, cutting through smoke that wafted up, curling ominously around his horns. Glowing, like embers, scorching whoever was unlucky enough to be on the receiving end of his anger.</p><p>All an act. When the shaking, terrified subordinate left, Schlatt would sit back in his chair, frown. His heart was beating so fast, thudding against his ribcage, hands shaking. He stared off into space, tried to collect himself. The effort of having to put on a mask like that, suffocating him, making his vision blur, it sapped his energy, left him listless and weak. Fuck, he hated that. Hated the stupid fucking laugh, the leers, the harshness of his voice.</p><p>But then Quackity would open the door to his office, quiet. Schlatt wouldn’t look at him yet, would wait until he was standing next to him, took the cigar out of his hand. He slumped back against his chair, feeling lightheaded, no doubt from inhaling smoke, not taking a breath of clean air since the unfortunate intern had entered his office. Schlatt needed it to calm his nerves, to keep himself together, to hide the way he trembled.</p><p>Quackity helped Schlatt up, not speaking; he understood, knew the teary look on his face, the way his bottom lip trembled. Schlatt couldn’t take it, couldn’t last with the feeling of Quackity’s arm around him, the warmth of him pressed against his side. Wilbur was probably already upstairs, waiting for them. Sat on their bed, watching the door. The thought made Schlatt’s heart flutter, a feeling of anticipation rising in him, made him feel wanted, loved.</p><p>The journey upstairs felt too long, too quiet, made him feel like the walls were closing in, so tall, so dark, the shadows creeping closer, lapping at his heels, threatening to consume him. Quackity was there to tug him forward though, arm wrapped around his waist, reminding Schlatt that he was there, Schlatt wasn’t alone, Quackity would take care of him, protect him.</p><p>All Schlatt had to do was follow him, watch him open the door, let Quackity lead him into the room, shut the door behind him. He let Schlatt go, but that was fine, perfectly okay, because Wilbur was there. Frumpy yellow sweater, black jeans, sat at the edge of their bed, facing the door. Eyes on Schlatt as Quackity locked the door, stayed back. Waiting.</p><p>Waiting for what? Wilbur hadn’t moved, eyes tracking Schlatt’s movements, the slight movements of his hands, the way his ears twitched with fear, the way he tried to keep it together, to not just run to Wilbur, throw himself down onto his lap, beg for him to take care of him, help him, he didn’t want to be responsible, didn’t want to try, just wanted to be good for them.</p><p>“Come here, Schlatt.” Schlatt tried to hide the eagerness, the need to please, but he was already there, Wilbur’s hands on his hips, face buried in Wil’s neck. He didn’t cry, but his breathing was heavy, tears stinging, threatening to spill over. Wil rubbed his back, movements slow and careful, comforting weight. Schlatt went limp against him, hands the only things that retained any strength, gripping onto Wil’s sweater like a lifeline, like it was the only thing keeping him tethered.</p><p>"Sh, it’s okay. I’m sorry you had to do that, but it’s over, all better now. I’m here.” He murmured, pressing a soft kiss to one of Schlatt’s horns. For a moment, Schlatt just stayed there, enjoying the sensation of Wilbur’s hands on him, the soothing rumble of his voice, the feeling of being so small, so soft, so loved. Schlatt closed his eyes, a tear sliding down his cheek, as he let himself slip.</p><p>Wilbur noticed almost immediately, hand stopping. Schlatt whimpered, opened his eyes again. The lights were too bright, too intense, too harsh, so he closed them again. No, Wilbur could take care of him, knew how to make it all better. He could just let him, just sit there, be good for him. Wilbur would take him out of his mind, let him sink so deep that all he could feel was Wilbur, Quackity, Wil, Quackity, Wil, Quackity, so good for them.</p><p>He shifted Schlatt off of his lap, let him lie back, guided him until he was lying dead center, head in the pillows. Schlatt’s eyes were still closed, allowing him to focus on the sounds, the rustling, the dip of the bed next to him before it sprung back. Had Wilbur left? Why? Schlatt was being good, wasn’t he? He whined, opened his eyes again. His vision was blurry, spotty. The lights burned. Schlatt ignored it, pushed through it, eyes searching desperately for Wil. He had to make sure Wil was still there.</p><p>Wilbur was there, at the foot of the bed, moved around it so he was standing at Schlatt’s side again. Schlatt let his eyes close again, satisfied he wasn’t alone; they were still there. They’d take care of him, make him feel safe, soft and sleepy. Quackity was still there, standing by the door, watching them, watching over him. Wilbur was at his side, setting some things down on the bedside table.</p><p>“Sit up for me, Schlatt.” Wilbur’s voice was quiet, not disturbing the silence of the room, not ruining the atmosphere. Schlatt did, blinked his eyes open again, only for a strip of cloth to cover his eyes, vision being obscured by darkness. He let Wilbur tie it behind his head. Wilbur tugged on his tie, untying it with patient fingers, setting it on the bed beside him, suit jacket soon following. He unbuttoned Schlatt’s shirt, discarding it. He tugged Schlatt’s arm out to the side, movement almost too fast, almost taking Schlatt with it. There was a clinking noise, something cold and unforgiving closing around his wrists, tugging them up to rest against the smooth wood of the headboard. He repeated it on the other side, leaving Schlatt trapped, defenseless.</p><p>“Good?” Wilbur asked, resting a hand on Schlatt’s arm, tugging it down so the metal of the handcuffs bit into his wrist. Schlatt exhaled shakily, yanking on his restraints, the clacking of the handcuffs against the headboard echoing in his ears, running through his mind, offset by his heartbeat thudding in his ears. Yeah. They weren’t too tight, too uncomfortable, just a bit of unpleasant pain to make this perfect. This was okay.</p><p>“Yeah.” His voice was small, pathetic. Schlatt’s face burned, eyes squeezing shut even though they couldn’t see them. Quackity finally stepped forward, footsteps soft and light on the carpet. Schlatt couldn’t see him, could only focus on his breathing, the sound of Wilbur moving again, the bed sinking beside him. Wilbur? Quackity? He couldn’t tell. Hands undid his belt, buckle clinking, tugged the rest of his clothes off. The air felt icy, unwelcoming. A hand smoothed over his thigh, down his shin. Whoever it was moved again, grabbing his ankle, tugging his leg out straight.</p><p>It had to have been Wilbur, because another cuff shut around his ankle, keeping it there, moving again to mirror that on his other angle. Schlatt felt exposed, displayed, their eyes burning into him, almost a physical weight on his skin. He wasn’t turned on yet, more sleepy and weak-feeling than aroused, but heat still burned through him, settling just under his skin, warming him from the inside out.</p><p>The bed between his legs dipped, someone kneeling between his thighs. Schlatt couldn’t tell who, but they gripped his hips, lifting them off the bed. A pillow slid beneath them, elevating them. Schlatt sighed, the hands left for a second. He hated when they left, the sudden chilly feeling, alone, empty. Another weight settled beside him, a hand sinking into his hair, thumbing over his horns, lips pressing against his.</p><p>Quackity then, the kiss soft and undemanding, tongue slipping into Schlatt’s mouth with a quiet moan. Schlatt let him control it, let him swipe his tongue over Schlatt’s, curl over Schlatt, straddling his waist. Quackity didn’t rest his weight on Schlatt, just kissed him, soothing him, distracting him from the sounds of Wilbur rummaging through the items he’d set on the sidetable, grabbing something. Quackity pulled back for just a moment, making Schlatt whimper. He tried to chase him; don’t leave him, please.</p><p>The hand in his hair left, replaced by Wil’s tugging his head back. He let go after a moment, instead slipping down to his neck, lifting it up so he could slide a collar around him, buckling it. Oh. He was in one of those moods. He released Schlatt again, let Quackity kiss him again, capturing his attention. Schlatt focused on it, put all his thought into Quackity, Quackity’s hand on his cheek, Quackity’s lips and tongue, Quackity, Quackity, Quackity.</p><p>Wilbur kneeled between his legs again, hand steadying himself on Schlatt’s thigh. A few objects thudded onto the mattress beside him, the rustling of Wilbur moving around, moving closer. He didn’t touch Schlatt beyond that for a few minutes, just watching them make out, hand so heavy, so present, it distracted Schlatt. It left a moment later, Wilbur settling back onto his heels.</p><p>Schlatt screamed, back arching as he writhed, dislodging Quackity. His mouth dropped open as pain spread through him, lava in his veins, sharp and piercing. His vision whited out as it just <em>kept going</em>. He jolted, tried to escape, hands jerking against the handcuffs so he could get to his neck, remove the collar. Fucking shock collar. Of course it was. He should have realized that it was a little heavier than usual. He sobbed, begged Wilbur to stop, but he didn’t safeword.</p><p>The electricity cut off, leaving Schlatt’s neck feeling hot and tender, the metal prongs he hadn’t noticed before digging into his neck. Tears soaked through the blindfold, dripping down his cheeks as he sobbed quietly, weakly tugging on the handcuffs. Fuck, that hurt. His neck still burned, the ghosts of lightning still running through him, making his limbs twitch.</p><p>“Schlatt?” Wilbur’s voice was nervous, high, a hand stroking over Schlatt’s thigh, worried, “Color?” Schlatt smiled, dazed and small, tried to collect his thoughts enough to respond. Okay, he could do this. Color. Color. What was his color?</p><p>“Green.” Schlatt slurred, tongue thick and heavy in his mouth, brain scrambled. Wilbur didn’t move for a second, still concerned, but he had his answer. He turned the collar on again, just for a moment, just to watch Schlatt jolt, twitch, scream. Voice throaty, tears dripping down his cheeks, drool sliding down his chin. Schlatt’s mind melted, left him through his tears, body still trembling when Wilbur turned it off. Fuck.</p><p>Quackity rested his hand on Schlatt’s stomach, a reminder that he was there. He didn’t kiss Schlatt again, enjoying the little moans and grunts as brief spikes of pain went through him, watching him cry. Schlatt couldn’t see him, only connection being the hand on his stomach, grounding him, keeping him in place as Wilbur shocked him again. The handcuffs clattered against the headboard, going taught, relaxing every time Wilbur gave him some reprieve only for him to go taut again, muscles spasming as he shouted, babbled, cried out in pain, desperation.</p><p>“Color, Schlatt?” Quackity was the one who asked this time, voice a little louder, a little lighter. There was some movement over Schlatt, perhaps an exchange, but he couldn’t tell. There was a popping noise, a wet sound. Lube? Wait, Quackity had asked him a question.</p><p>“Green.” He was so green; the pain felt so real, so satisfying, settling into his bones, crackling around his skull, singing in his blood. Perfection. There was a click, so close, just over his chest, and then more pain zapped through him, traveling all the way down to his toes. Schlatt couldn’t breathe, didn’t even make a noise, head thudding back against the pillows. Fuck. It felt like his soul had left his body, ascending into the light that flashed across his vision, burning into his mind.</p><p>"So good for me, Schlatt.” Quackity sounded almost in awe, impressed, proud of him. Warmth swirled in Schlatt’s chest, mixing with the sharp heat of the electricity, made him feel so hot, like he was burning, not sure if he wasn’t, that the shocks hadn’t left burns on his skin, marking him permanently. God, that shouldn’t be as hot as it was, the thought of being burned, lightning stretched over his skin.</p><p>A finger nudged at his entrance, slick with lube. It was unexpected, made Schlatt flinch. A hand gripped onto his hip, nails digging into his skin as the finger pushed in, wiggling against his walls. Quackity didn’t shock him again, instead using the blanket to wipe away some of his tears, the drool, stroking over his horns. A second finger pushed in, scissored inside him. It hurt, but it was just another layer, adding to the pleasure-pain that already wracked him, mixing together until he couldn’t tell one from the other.</p><p>“Schlatt? Color? You okay?” Wilbur stopped, fingers stilling inside him. Schlatt whined, clenching down around them. Fuck, he needed that, don’t stop.</p><p>“G-green, green, Wil, <em>please</em>-” He sobbed, voice scratchy, couldn’t control his muscles enough to roll his hips down. Don’t make him beg. Wilbur made a soft, offended noise. What had he done wrong? Quackity shocked him again, for almost a whole thirty seconds this time, Schlatt jerking, eyes rolling back in his head because fuck, agony, horrific pain, but it still felt <em>so fucking good</em>. They took such good care of him.</p><p>“It’s ‘sir’. Don’t get it wrong again.” Wilbur tried to threaten, but he thrusted his fingers in so careful, so gentle, there wasn’t any bite to it. Didn’t matter, his disapproval was so much worse than anything else he could’ve done to Schlatt. Schlatt whimpered, the disappointment being more painful than anything, even the shocks, the handcuffs leaving blisters on his wrists, the feeling of his cock lying neglected on his stomach, aching.</p><p>“‘M sorry, sir, please don’t be mad at me.” Schlatt mumbled, ashamed, both by begging and letting Wil down. The two tore him apart, made his heart hurt, made his head spin. No, he didn’t have to think, he didn’t have to feel embarrassed, just let them take care of him. Calm down. Quackity’s hand wrapped around his cock, giving him a few slow pumps, releasing him again almost immediately, just teasing him. Schlatt moaned, desperate, begging for more. Quackity didn’t give it to him, just leaned down to press a kiss to Schlatt’s forehead.</p><p>Wil pulled his fingers out, making Schlatt whimper, sob as Quackity shocked him again. He felt lightheaded, endorphins rushing through his blood, small, protected, loved. Wilbur got off the bed, clothes dropping to the floor, abandoned. He climbed back on, hand settling on Schlatt’s inner thigh for a moment before stroking his fingers over Schlatt’s hole, admiring the way it fluttered, flinched, empty and needy, he craved something inside him, filling him up.</p><p>Well, who was Wilbur to deny that? Schlatt couldn’t focus long enough to listen to Wilbur slicking himself up, getting shocked every few seconds, short bursts of pain that left his brain fried, couldn’t think, could only feel. Schlatt couldn’t stop the stream of moans and whimpers that flowed continuously out of his mouth, echoing around them, drowning out Wil’s small groans, little grunts as he lined himself up.</p><p>Quackity shocked him just as the tip of Wil’s cock slipped in, forcing him to grab Schlatt’s hips, keep them in place so he could slide deeper, split him open, so deep inside him. Schlatt short-circuited, brain shuttering to a halt, brain going completely blank. He stayed like that for some time; how long, he didn’t know. When Schlatt returned, Wilbur was still inside him, not moving, just letting Schlatt warm his cock for a moment, spasming around him.</p><p>Wilbur still didn’t move, didn’t fuck him, just adjusting his grip on Schlatt’s hips, pressed flush against him, stretching him so wide, muscles straining. Fuck, he felt huge, Schlatt almost didn’t notice Quackity moving with how focused he was on Wilbur, Wilbur’s cock filling him up so well that it made even more tears spill down his face, hiccuping. Quackity straddled his waist again, but this time higher, thighs on either side of Schlatt’s head as he sat on Schlatt’s chest.</p><p>Schlatt opened his mouth, knowing what he wanted, so obedient for them. He let his tongue flop out, resting against his chin, begging. Please fill his mouth, own him, <em>use him</em>. Quackity let him wait for a moment, letting him hear him unbuckling his belt, feel the throb of Wilbur’s cock inside him, the collar resting heavy and menacing around his throat.</p><p>It was almost a surprise when he finally swiped the tip of his cock over Schlatt’s lips, over his tongue, pushing in with a sigh. Schlatt moaned around him, swallowing as he thrust deeper, pulling out only to shove his dick so far into Schlatt’s mouth that he choked, forced to take it. Quackity’s thighs flexed around his head as he grabbed the headboard, putting more force behind his thrusts, bruising Schlatt’s lips, making him feel fuzzy. He couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything more than moan as Quackity fucked his face, drool, cry. Desperate for friction, desperate for pain, desperate for <em>more</em>.</p><p>Quackity’s thrusts were slow but powerful, he moaned above Schlatt, hand coming down so he could stroke over where his cock disappeared into Schlatt’s warm mouth, shoving a few fingers in beside his length, pressing down on his tongue before pulling them out, wiping them off on his cheek. Schlatt wished he could see him, but all he had to go on were his moans, hissed praises that flew past him, going in one ear and out the other without connecting.</p><p>Wilbur finally pulled out, making Schlatt whine, noise muffled and choked as Quackity pushed all the way in, Schlatt’s nose pressing against his shirt, slacks feeling tacky and stiff against his skin. He let his cock rest there, sighing, feeling Schlatt’s throat flutter around him, choking on his dick, not able to breathe, forced to sit there and just take it as Wilbur rolled his hips forward, filling Schlatt again, too overwhelming, too much, the lack of air making his head swim, warm and fuzzy, soft and empty.</p><p>Quackity finally pulled out, let Schlatt cough, gasp for air. Wilbur built up a rhythm, speeding up, fingernails digging into Schlatt’s hips, blood trickling down onto the sheets. Schlatt moaned, wanton, ragged. The drag of Wilbur’s cock inside him, sliding over his sweet spot, the sting of his nails, the bruising grip, it all made him feel dizzy, eyes fluttering closed as he moaned, breathy and soft, relaxing for a moment, just enjoying it.</p><p>Electricity spread through him, making him arch up the bed as much as he could, almost displacing Quackity, clenching down so hard on Wilbur’s cock he had to stop moving, sobbing, screaming. Quackity let him suffer for a moment, muscles spasming, jerking, hands straining to break the handcuffs, rip the collar off his neck. He couldn’t, forced to writhe, plead with Quackity to stop, help him, it hurts so bad, <em>more</em>.</p><p>The shock stopped, but Schlatt didn’t get to relax, Quackity thrusting back into his mouth the instant his finger left the button, groaning. Wilbur started moving again, hips snapping forward. Schlatt saw stars, groaning, whimpering, hips twitching in a pathetic attempt to meet Wil’s thrusts. The lack of oxygen combined with the sparks of pleasure from Wilbur’s cock destroying any thought he had left, just letting them use him, couldn’t think, could only feel.</p><p>-</p><p>Schlatt looked so pretty like this. He’d soaked the blindfold with his tears, face bright red as he gagged, choked on Quackity’s dick. The feeling of his throat fluttering around his cock was delicious, euphoric. It made Quackity want to just stay there, hips pressed flush against his face, forever. He couldn’t though, had to pull out every so often to let Schlatt breathe, rub the head of his cock over Schlatt’s face and tongue, spreading his saliva everywhere, making him look absolutely filthy.</p><p>Didn’t mean he couldn’t have his fun, though. Every time he had to leave Schlatt’s hot, wet mouth, he shocked him, pressed the button down to watch him scream, jerk, sob. Schlatt begged so prettily, barely coherent and messy, words slurred. He’s completely wrecked, couldn’t think, could only moan like a whore, beg for more. Such a good boy, wasn’t he? Quackity thought so, told him so, though he didn’t think Schlatt heard him.</p><p>Quackity wanted to try shocking him while he had his dick in Schlatt’s mouth, but he worried that would shock him too. Oh well. He kept up the pattern, watching Schlatt lose it more and more until he couldn’t even speak, couldn’t beg, only moan, scream for them, so pretty, gorgeous, lips slick with spit, red and puffy from the friction. He looked beautiful when Quackity forced his entire cock in, lips stretched lewdly around him, bulging out his cheeks slightly.</p><p>God, he loved that. Loved watching Schlatt gasp for air, feeling his chest heave beneath him, knowing that he couldn’t catch his breath like this, pinning him in place even when he writhed, screamed whenever Quackity pushed the button, handcuffs clanking, sounding like music, a triangle, maybe. Whatever. It didn’t matter, nothing else mattered. All Quackity cared about in that moment was choking Schlatt with his dick and watching his reactions, hungry, starved for seeing Schlatt so needy, so open, honest.</p><p>-</p><p>Wilbur couldn’t see Schlatt’s face, but he could picture it, closed his eyes as images of Schlatt moaning, Schlatt begging, tears streaming down his face as he moaned, couldn’t even moan Wil’s name, couldn’t speak, fucked stupid. He loved this, loved seeing Quackity use him, head thrown back, hearing the slick sounds of his cock sliding in and out of Schlatt’s mouth, Schlatt gagging, moaning, greedy.</p><p>He almost felt guilty for doing this to Schlatt. The sound of Schlatt’s pained screams turned him on as much as it sickened him, twisting together in his heart to create a completely new emotion, something indescribable. Wilbur loved it, loved fucking Schlatt like this, feeling him tighten up so much around his cock, walls fluttering and spasming as he screamed until his voice broke, sobbing. It awoke something primal in him, something cruel and possessive, something that wanted to own Schlatt, to keep him like this, brainless and fucked out.</p><p>Schlatt kept trying to break free of the restraints, muscles straining, body arching off the bed, forcing Wil’s cock that much deeper, fuck. He was so hot inside, it almost convinced Wilbur that he could feel the electricity through him, the pleasure sharp and almost painful. He was forced to keep his legs spread, though his thighs kept trying to squeeze Wilbur, trying to help himself deal with the sensations. But he couldn’t, fuck, that thought shouldn’t be as hot to Wilbur as it was, the thought that Schlatt couldn’t escape even if he tried.</p><p>When Schlatt came, it was a surprise. He screamed, cried, jerked as if Quackity had still been shocking him before going limp, only to tense back up as Quackity shocked him again. Wilbur didn’t stop, grinning, snapped his hips forward at the perfect angle. The sound of Schlatt going silent, too overwhelmed to even make a noise, body going completely taught, it made Wilbur shiver. Fuck, Wil loved that. He did it again, adoring the little punched out noises, Schlatt too weak to scream, to move, body spasming uncontrollably.</p><p>Schlatt was quieter like this, but every noise was so much hotter, hiccups and sobs, little choked moans. Quackity stopped shocking him, pulled out of his throat. The sight of Schlatt’s face took Wilbur’s breath away, made him falter, resting his cock deep inside Schlatt as Wil stared at him, mouth slightly agape. Jesus fucking Christ. He needed to see all of it. Wilbur leaned forward, yanking the blindfold off, impatient.</p><p>Wilbur couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Schlatt’s face was bright red, soaked in tears and saliva. His eyes were bright and hazy, unfocused, half closed like he couldn’t even see, couldn’t control even that. Schlatt’s mouth was open, lips rubbed red and slick with spit, used. Fuck. His brow was pinched, and Wilbur couldn’t believe it. There was no shame in Schlatt’s eyes, no hesitation as he laid there, obedient; he’d slipped entirely. There was no resistance, just perfect submission.</p><p>Wilbur swallowed, closing his mouth. Oh, oh shit. His hands were sweaty, slipping on Schlatt’s skin as he pulled out again, suddenly shaky. Fuck, that was so hot. His thrusts were short, rough, as hard as he could make them. He leaned forward, pulling Schlatt closer so he could suck at his collarbone, leaning forward, sinking his teeth into Schlatt’s chest and neck, leaving as many bruises as he could. Fuck, <em>fuck</em>.</p><p>Something greedy, possessive, mean grew in Wilbur’s chest the more he stared at Schlatt, the harder he fucked him, the more he marked him. His. Schlatt was his. The thing purred the more bruises littered Schlatt’s chest, the closer he got; so wet, so hot, so perfect, so <em>Wilbur’s</em>. His perfect… slut? Bitch? Fucktoy? They all applied, but none of them suited Schlatt. He was just Wilbur’s, Wilbur’s to fuck, Wilbur’s to love, Wilbur’s to take care of.</p><p>The thought made him groan, sinking his teeth in one last time as came, spilling inside Schlatt, filling him up. Fuck, all his, he’d marked him, bred him, Wilbur <em>ownedwhere was the collar?</em> Schlatt needed to have his collar, needed to know he was owned, he couldn’t go without it. Wilbur wouldn’t allow that.</p><p>As if reading his mind, Quackity passed him the collar, another towel. He left for a moment after that, allowing Wilbur to clasp the collar around Schlatt’s neck, finally. Wil sighed, satisfied, pulled Schlatt closer, so he was between Wilbur’s legs, back resting against Wil’s chest, Wil’s arms around his waist and nose buried in Schlatt’s hair. He closed his eyes, just holding Schlatt. His.</p><p>“Wilbur? You okay?” Wilbur tried to answer, but he couldn’t. He settled for humming, tightening his arms around Schlatt. Schlatt. God, he loved Schlatt. Quackity huffed, moving one of Schlatt’s legs enough so he could grip the base of the toy inside him, pulling it out. Schlatt didn’t react, but Wilbur did, finally finding his words.</p><p>“Wait, no, you can’t-” Quackity cut him off, wrapping the toy in a towel.</p><p>“Calm down, Schlatt’s right there, he’s got his collar on. Right now, he needs you to clean him up, okay? You can do that, right?” The last comment stung, made Wilbur feel guilty. He shifted Schlatt, so he was resting sideways in his lap, curled up in his arms. He held him close as he stood, arms shaking with the effort of holding him up all the way to the bathroom. Wil had to, though, had to take care of him, he had to. He needed to.</p><p>Wilbur set Schlatt down in the shower, pointing the showerhead away from him and turning the water on. He couldn’t leave him, sat down next to him, moving him so he was leaning on Wil’s shoulder. Schlatt was still awake, he could tell, but his eyes were closed, and Wil doubted he was there enough to wash himself. Wilbur was fine with that; just meant he got to care for Schlatt, clean him, pamper him.</p><p>The shower was huge, large enough to fit all three of them. So when Quackity stepped in, sat on Wil's other side, rested a hand on his knee, Wil barely noticed. He was too focused on Schlatt, on the listless expression on his face. Quackity sighed, realizing that they’d both dropped, both too deep to be shocked out of it. Which was fine, but it meant they’d be unreasonable and petulant for a few hours.</p><p>He checked the water; it was hot. He moved the showerhead, so it was pointed at them, just low enough that it wouldn’t get in their faces. Wilbur flinched, glanced up at Quackity with a desperate expression, lost, confused. Quackity’s heart melted, Wilbur was always so cute when he slipped. Needed to always be near one of them, to feel useful, to be taking care of them; it was adorable.</p><p>Quackity passed him the shampoo, selecting another bottle so he could wash his hair, a smirk on his face as he watched Wilbur coo, gently massaging the solution into Schlatt’s hair, not looking away for even a second, completely focused on him. Schlatt still looked listless, dazed, eyes closed. He didn’t react to Wil’s words, letting him move him around, no tension in his limbs.</p><p>He passed Wil the body wash, already finished showering, stepped out. The rushing water mixed with Wil’s voice, echoing throughout the room as Quackity toweled himself off, slipping a robe on. He turned back to Schlatt and Wil, tied it around his waist. Now, this was the hard part; trying to get Wilbur to take care of himself. Trying to get Schlatt away from him so he could clean himself up.</p><p>“Wil, you need to shower.” Wilbur shook his head. Okay, then.</p><p>“You can’t take care of Schlatt if you’re dirty, Wil.” Wilbur stilled, hands twitching as he tried to process that idea.</p><p>“Here, let me take him. We’ll be right out here, waiting for you.” Quackity grabbed Schlatt from him, helping him stand. Or, well, lean on Quackity. Jesus Christ, he was heavy. Quackity strained to carry him all the way to the toilet, sitting him down on it, grabbing another towel. Wilbur was done by the time he’d gotten Schlatt dried and dressed, wrapped in a fluffy blue robe that went down to his ankles, almost swallowing him.</p><p>Quackity had to almost bribe Wil into his own robe, to get him to leave the bathroom, Schlatt in his arms. He didn’t carry him again, thank God, but it was still awkward to try to get them all the way out of the bedroom, downstairs, sit them down on the couch. Quackity gave Wil a blanket, heart melting as Wil wrapped it around Schlatt, hugging him close, pulled Schlatt into his lap and slid his arms around Schlatt’s waist, buried his face in his neck.</p><p>He left to grab some food, some water. Wilbur wouldn’t remember to feed himself, would be reluctant to leave Schlatt’s side. Quackity was fine with grabbing some stuff, a few more blankets, to be able to watch Wilbur cuddle Schlatt, to be able to wrap his arms around them, to look at Schlatt’s soft and needy face, to feel Wilbur press kisses to his neck, murmuring nonsensical praise to both of them, needing to feel useful, to be able to take care of them.</p><p>Quackity passed Wilbur a water bottle, opening one for himself and watching as Wilbur coaxed Schlatt into drinking some water, hushing his little whimpers, whispering something inaudible, something that made Schlatt open his eyes. Wilbur set the water bottle down, smiling a little, hugging Schlatt close again. Quackity passed him the third water bottle, watched him to make sure he drank it.</p><p>Okay, that’s good. He could wait to get them to eat; for now, he wrapped the three of them in the remaining blankets, relaxing into the couch next to Wilbur. Quackity loved this, Schlatt all sleepy and quiet, reaching for Quackity’s hand when he saw him, closing his eyes again so he could savor the warmth, the quiet. Wilbur wrapped an arm around Quackity’s waist, tugging him closer so he could lean on Wil. So what if they spent hours like that, just cuddling, occasionally shifting to find a more comfortable position? It was amazing. God, Quackity loved them.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>//BETAREAD: greetings, im the editor. so,, yeah, hi</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm kinda sad. My cat died yesterday. The grief hasn't hit me full force yet, so I might not put out as much over the next few days, might throw myself into writing, not sure yet. But writing this took my mind off of it, so thank you :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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